Addison Fox - Colton's Surprise Heir

Ethan kept a calming hand on Dream’s neck but said nothing more, allowing the doctor to do his work. The vet inspected the horse, his hands following all the places Ethan’s own gaze had roamed for the past twenty minutes. After several endless moments of inspection and even more checks with the stethoscope, Doc Peters got to his feet.

“You ready for a long night?”

Ethan stared up at the doc’s slim figure, standing over his horse. “She’s having the foal tonight?”

“Not if we can help it. But we do have to get him turned around. There are two pairs of long, long legs pointing exactly where they don’t belong.”

Ethan took solace that the doctor seemed in control of the situation and nodded his head. “Tell us what to do.”

* * *

The frigid night had given way to a cold crisp morning, and Ethan breathed in deep as he headed for the ranch house. He’d spent hours worrying they wouldn’t be able to help Dream, but Doc Peters had been a pro. Bit by bit, he’d managed to turn Dream’s foal back into position. Ethan knew they were out of the woods now, but he hadn’t missed the concern that had stamped itself deep in the grooves on Peters’s face around four that morning.

Things had been more than touch and go for a while, and Ethan had barely dared to believe things could end well, convinced he needed to brace himself for the worst. For the inevitable.

Yet the doc had done it. Dream was on her feet and happily grazing on a fresh batch of oats Bill had poured just for her when Ethan finished washing up in the sinks in the barn.

Now all he could think about was a hot shower and roughly a gallon of coffee. He might even manage something beyond the breakfast sandwiches he typically microwaved each morning. In fact, he thought he remembered seeing a rasher of bacon in the fridge the last time Bill’s wife, Joyce, did a shopping order.

The back door swung open under his hand and he caught himself. Hadn’t he locked it when he headed out?

The smell of coffee accosted him and the mystery of the back door vanished as he imagined Joyce over here, putting on a pot for when he got back. That woman was gold, and he’d have to remember to thank her later.

He dragged off his boots in the mudroom and turned for the kitchen. The distinct scent of bacon assailed him just before the soft, subtle hum of a popular country song followed.

But it was the woman who stood before his stove that had Ethan going still.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

* * *

Elizabeth Marie Conner—Lizzie to the few who knew and loved her—already knew she was pushing beyond acceptable boundaries by coming here in the first place. Since she figured she had to get this over with, she might as well add bacon to the mix.

Men loved bacon. Heck, there were whole websites devoted to the very best part of the pig. And based on what Joyce had said when she’d let her in, Ethan had just spent a hard night.

She was smart enough to know the bacon wouldn’t go all that far to soften the blow she was about to deliver, but she was hungry as a horse all the time, and it would make her feel better.

“That’s some welcome.”

The man had the sense to look contrite, and she took it as a good sign. But when a quick shot of something warm and hungry flitted through his gaze before those rich hazel depths turned cold once more, Lizzie pressed a firm hand to her fluttering stomach beneath the oversize sweatshirt she’d tugged on for the visit.

Ethan Colton was anything but cold.

And she’d had six months of very warm memories reminding her of that fact.

“You can imagine my surprise to find a woman cooking me breakfast.”

Lizzie did her best to keep her body facing the stove, only turning to eye Ethan over her shoulder. “Joyce let me in. Said you were having a tough night with one of your horses. How is she?”

“Good. Fine.” Talk of his horse seemed to mellow him a bit more, and he crossed to the pot of coffee. “Want some?”

“No, thanks. I’m not a coffee girl. No one at work can understand it but—” She broke off, the reality that there was no work any longer more bitter than she’d expected.

“But what?”

“Nothing.”

Ethan poured his coffee and, after doctoring it with a sugar and some creamer from the fridge, moved to the long island counter at her back. “Look. I’m sorry for my greeting. I’m tired and I didn’t expect anyone to be in here when I got back. And—”

He stilled, a small smile edging his lips. “And that’s lame. I’m sorry for my greeting. How are you, Lizzie?”

She’d thought she was prepared. Had believed she could keep her emotions in check and her mind clear for all that was still to come between them.

Oh, how wrong she’d been.

Those hazel eyes—the ones that were an amazing mix of green and brown and several spots of gray—drew her in and touched something deep inside she couldn’t quite define.

Need? Yes.

Desire? Yes.

Love? She was so not going there.

Even if she had harbored feelings for him since she was young. He was the big brother of her best friend in foster care. As a lifelong foster child, she’d known full well that getting attached was a bad idea, but she’d gone and done it anyway. Josie Colton had been her best friend, and her older brother Ethan... Oh, how Lizzie had looked forward to those visits he’d made three times a year to see his sister.

Until it had all ended with nothing but empty promises and long, lonely days without her best friend.

So when he’d appeared like a dream six months ago at a rodeo they were both attending, she couldn’t shake off the chance to see him again and spend some time together.

“Lizzie? How are you?”

She pulled herself back from the thick morass of memories and unfulfilled wants. “Good. I’m good.”

“You look good—” He broke off before he added, “But you always look good. No one I’ve ever met has green eyes quite like yours.”

She stilled, the bacon popping and crackling, as she braced herself for what she had to do. Flipping off the stove, she moved the bacon to the back burner and turned around and looked her fill.

Her gaze roamed, hungry, over the sandy-brown hair she knew was the texture of unrefined cotton. On down over the broad shoulders that seemed custom-made for a woman’s hands. And then over the broad chest that was banded in thick sinew, from the hard swath of his pectorals on down to the ridges of muscle that framed his stomach.

The man was a vision, and the sweet boy she’d had a crush on had grown into a formidable man.

Get it together, Elizabeth Marie. Stop ogling him and tell the man the reason you’re here.

Yet even as that steely voice—the one that had pushed her through college and on into becoming the youngest loan officer at her bank—whispered to her to just come out with it, she couldn’t help but indulge the woman’s need that had her stopping for a moment. It was rude to stare—hadn’t one of her foster mothers taught her that?—but she couldn’t quite help herself.

She’d look her fill, because after this morning things would never again be the same.

And as Ethan’s gaze traveled its own path, over her face, a tentative smile quirking his lips, she knew the moment when something else registered.

Knew the moment that smile faltered when he caught sight of the very clear bump that had replaced her normally flat stomach.

“Lizzie? What—”

A loud popping sound pulled her from the moment and Lizzie turned on a hard exhalation. “Oh, no!”

Even though she’d moved it off the heat, the bacon had continued cooking in the oil and had gone crisp to the point of burning.

“Let me.” Ethan moved into her space, gently pushing her aside as he grabbed the thick cast iron off the stove. He tilted the pan over a pie plate she’d already set aside, layered with paper towels to absorb the grease.